


~ Mon Péché, Votre Paradis ~

by 0fflined



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gore, M/M, NSFW, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0fflined/pseuds/0fflined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brutal gave a dark chuckle.<br/>“Ye are like a Fallen Angel, love, a Fallen Angel but still the most holiest man on Earth, doin’ God’s dirtiest jobs, taking all the dirt and blood on yer own hands, because God himself can’t do it”, said Brutal. He chuckled.<br/>“Well… Oi guess someone has to do it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The night was dark and it was raining. The cold streets were empty during this time of night. The streetlights were the only light source in the dark alleys. A man was walking towards the lone, dark horse-drawn carriage. The person was tall and wore fully black clothes; a slouch hat, a collar shirt with weird, blood red symbols on his shoulders. A dark vest, the same symbol on his back. He wore dark, quite skin tight trousers and the cowboy-like boots knocked on the wet ground. He was escorting someone…

The other person was a bit smaller, and his face was hidden under a hood. He had a cape around him, so you couldn’t even be sure was he a man or a woman. His clothes didn’t show from under the cape. But one thing was sure; a chain came from under the cape, and the taller man was holding the other head. So, he must’ve been escorting a prisoner of some sort. The smaller man stumbled on his legs slightly, the taller one pulling the chain a bit.  
“Keep up”, he whispered.

As the pair came to the carriage, the taller one knocked on the door. The prisoner didn’t move even a bit when the door opened. There was a man inside, who wore a top hat and a nice, expensive looking suit with a monocle. He was smoking, the smokes he blew to the pair’s faces. The taller man looked at the man in the carriage through his dark glasses, frowning when the smokes met his face. He was used to the smell, though.  
“Did you bring me what I asked, mister Brutal Sniper?” the top hatted man asked. The Brutal gave a smirk, his sharp teeth intimidating.  
“Oi brought ye somethin’ even better, mister Director”, he said. The Director raised an eyebrow.

Brutal pulled the smaller man’s hood down, revealing the person under it. The man was like an Angel; his skin was bright white, and he wore a mask as white as snow. His curly blond hair was seeking to get out from the holes on his mask. His eyes were sky blue, and even his presence felt like as if the Holy Father himself was standing before them. His mouth was covered with a cloth piece, so he couldn’t speak. The man in the carriages stepped out, his eyes on the white man. His own eyes widened in surprise, his mouth open a few inches. The smoke almost dropped from his lips.  
“The Pure One”, he whispered as he brought his hand slowly but surely on the man’s cheek, the back of his hand leaning against it. The Pure One leaned his head away slightly, the man’s touch feeling very disgusting. And smelled like cigarette.

“I did ask you much, but this… The Pure One himself”, the Director said again, taking a hold of Pure’s jaw and turning his head from side to side, examining him. Brutal had great instincts, and his ears told him that they were not alone. He looked around a bit, seeing people appear from the dark corners around them, soon surrounding them. There were 4… no, 6. Six men surrounded them from different locations. Brutal turned to look at the Director again.  
“We made a deal, Director”, he scoffed, Director’s eyes darting up at him. The Pure One had his eyes on the Director, and the same time he started whispering. He whispered so silently no one else heard him. He closed his eyes to be able to concentrate.

“Yes, yes, Brutal, you shall have your part of the deal. As soon as I get Father to a certain place where he won’t be found before I have what I need…” Director said and snapped his fingers. Two other men stepped out of the carriage from the other side. Brutal turned his eyes on them, his hold on the chain tightening. Director leaned lower to be directly face to face with the Pure One. The Director took the smoke from his lips and blew the cloud on Pure’s face. Father frowned when the smell was about to break his concentration, Director giving him a smirk, which wasn’t so nice since some of his teeth had either dropped, or damaged in other ways.  
“Tell me, Father… How does it feel when God forgets about you?” he asked silently. Pure opened his eyes then.  
“ _Scintilla etiam exigua in tenebris micat_ ”, whispered the Pure One. Director noticed the Pure One was speaking by the movement of his lips through the cloth.  
“I can’t hear you with this cloth on your lips”, he said, and lowered it down. That was a mistake.  
“ ** _Vade retro, satana!_** ” Pure shouted, and then a bright burst of light filled the whole alley.

The Director and his men were all blinded for a few seconds, and his horses neighed nervously, rampaging in the ties of the carriage. The top hatted man dropped on the ground on his bottom, as well as his men started dropping on their knees. They got weak, their powers felt like they were being sucked from their bodies. When Director was able to see again, the Brutal and the Pure stood side by side before him. Brutal pulled out his two, long kukris as he ran towards the nearest Director’s minions, piercing his weapons through their chests, and Pure dropped his cape down. The chain dropped from his hands, he was never tied up with them. Under the cape he was holding a large book on one hand as with the other he was holding the cross, which was hanging by his neck on a golden lace. He was calling out words and sentences in Latin, sending off pillars of light towards Director’s men. Slowly, they all turned to their true appearance; living dead.

“W-witchcraft!” Director shouted as he pulled up on his feet, taking lean from the carriages. The Pure was sending off beams of light, the living dead turning to ashes when the light touched them. His eyes were glowing bright blue.  
“YOU AREN’T EVEN NEAR TO BE GOD’S SERVANT! YOU ARE NOT PURE AT ALL!” the Director shouted, and suddenly a kukri pierced his right side. The Director gave out a deep cry, the horses panicking and finally they ran off with the carriage. Director dropped down on his knees on the ground, the kukri pointing out from his back. The shock might’ve been the only thing still keeping him alive. Director saw boots under his eyes, and suddenly he was pulled up from the ground by his collar. Brutal was staring into his eyes with his own, bloodthirsty, deep red ones.

“Don’t ye ever call him that again”, he growled, his sharp teeth like a hungry predator’s.  
Director didn’t answer, he was too shocked and in pain to answer.  
“Ye filthy man, ye don’t even deserve to-“ Brutal continued, taking a grip of the kukri’s holder.  
“ _Brutal_ ”, called out the most holiest voice from behind them. This made Brutal stop. He looked over his shoulder at Father. His eyes didn’t reflect hatred, brutality or even anger anymore. They were like a lost puppy’s when he looked at the Father.

The Pure frowned slightly. Brutal knew he didn’t like death, blood or anything like that. Why else would he be calling out the 'safe word'? He sighed and turned to look at the Director again. The Pure turned on his heels, turning his back on the two others. Placing his hands on his ears, he whispered out; “ _Requiescat in pace…_ ” In a few seconds, it was over. Director was dead, and so were his living dead.

“’Rest in peace’?” mumbled the Brutal. The Pure lowered his hands from his ears and turned around, finding the Brutal standing just a few inches from him.  
“He would’ve killed ye. Maybe fed ye to those zombies. And ye say, ‘rest in peace’?” he asked, not believing his ears.

Pure frowned just a bit, sadly, and gave a small sigh.  
“I say vhat God tells me to, even if I may not agree- I am a servant, vho brings God’s vords to his people“, he spoke out softly. The Brutal growled.  
“Ye always say that!” he barked bringing his arms up for a few seconds in frustration.  
“When will ye start speaking with yer own mind, own words?” he asked, irritated by the Pure’s attitude. What could Pure do, or say to defend himself? He was God’s ambassador, so he tells people what they want to hear, what God wants them to hear.

“Enfant, no ozer priest vould do vhat I do zith you”, he said, meaning the situation they were just in. Brutal gave a dark chuckle.  
“Ye are like a Fallen Angel, love, a Fallen Angel but still the most holiest man on Earth, doin’ God’s dirtiest jobs, taking all the dirt and blood on yer own hands, because God himself can’t do it”, said Brutal. He chuckled.  
“Well… Oi guess someone has to do it.”

The Pure looked into his eyes for a moment. He was right; Pure was the Archdeacon, but he wasn’t so innocent or even sinless. And someone had to do the things he and Brutal did; take down all the unholy and evil which no one else could.  
“Maybe that’s why we work so well together; ye are Pure, Oi’m Brutal, we both are servants of God, and ye are not afraid of what is to come…” Brutal said as he passed the Pure, Brutal’s own cross around his neck covered in living dead’s blood.

“We should head back to church; it’s startin’ to rain harder”, he added taking a soft hold of Pure’s hand.  
“Let’s go, Father.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brutal’s hold tightened a bit before he let go with a soft shove.  
> “Ye are not sinless, Father, yer scars on yer back speak for themselves. Havin’ sex with me, Oi understand ye have to punish yerself after that, Oi hate to as well! One kiss can’t-“ the Sniper explained, the Spy answering: “Please, Christian- You smell of blood and death-“

The Pure One held the book against his chest tightly. The Brutal One was smoking a cigar, which actually smelled quite nice even to Pure’s nose. They kept walking pretty close to each other, and it made Pure feel safe. Brutal was what he was; he was cruel at times, violent, even appeared cold hearted. He seemed to be the opposite being of Pure, Jang to his Jin. Still, even with such setbacks, they seemed to complete each other. Pure felt something in him that no other did. Why was it that every time Brutal had killed and sinned, God forgave him without any punishments? There had to be a reason, and Pure was sure the reason was good enough for him to feel safe with him.

Brutal never hurt him, on purpose, at least. Sometimes he couldn’t control himself, but he never hurt Father on purpose, or without any regret of hurting him. Still, the man lacked the skill of showing his regret. But Pure did not care.

They were just about to turn around a corner when Brutal pushed the Pure One against the wall. Pure was surprised at first, but stayed silent, even held his breath when two people passed them from around the same corner. The pair couldn’t be seen together at this time of night. No one, expect Pure and Brutal’s own little, secret “gang” knew about these nightly adventures. They had killed vampires, a few ghouls and a lot of zombies in these few months.

Their “gang” included two Scouts and two Demomen, who gathered information about whatever they thought was practical around the city, and outside of it. The Scouts stayed inside the city, as the Demomen travelled around the country. The Scouts liked to wear blue, as the Demomen liked to wear red. Even if they were gypsies and poor, the Demomen still wanted to have some colour in their life. The Scouts worked as milk boys during mornings, newspaper-boys during days and shoe cleaners during evenings, and nightly they passed the information they had gathered to Pure. Once in every month the Demomen stop by the Pure One’s church, the Archdeacon offering them the finest of food and drinks, nice, comfortable and warm beds to the information he gets from them.

The two men passed them, and Pure could give a relieved sigh.  
“We are not safe before we get back to the church… Come on, now, Father”, Brutal said as he took the Pure One’s hand again and started escorting him. The Brutal was staying at the church in one of its spare rooms. Pure had let him in one dark, storming night when the man had come to confess his sins.  
“Christian, you are hurting me”, Pure whispered, Brutal loosening his hold on his hand a bit.  
“Why do ye all me ‘Christian’? It’s not my real name…” he murmured as he peeked around the next corner to make sure no one was around.  
“Because you haven’t told me your real name, enfant”, spoke Pure as he followed him.  
“Ye said it doesn’t matter.”  
“It doesn’t.”

Brutal stopped then, turned towards Pure and stared into his eyes. Pure was just a few inches from touching Brutal’s chest. The Sniper looked down at the Spy, who was hiding his own identity behind his mask.  
“As doesn’t yer real name, Father?” he asked. Pure’s expression was calm and soft, his eyes blinking a few times. Then Brutal gave a small chuckle, grinning a bit.  
“Safety, ye’d answer”, Brutal spoke.  
“Guess that is one way to put it…” he added before he turned around again. They started walking, their hands never letting go. Soon, they reached the church…

They used the secret backdoor to get in unnoticed; a window hidden under the large inflorescence of vines, where from the chapel connected to the church takes its grapes for their wines. The window was on the ground level, it led to underground tunnels, where only the Archdeacon had an access to. Here the Demomen come to sleep and where the Scouts spent their time as well.

First Brutal went in, dropping maybe a meter and half down to the underground floor. He reached his arms up to get Pure when he followed after Brutal. He was careful he wouldn’t mess Pure’s white clothing with the blood on his.  
“Zank you, enfant”, spoke the priest a soft smile on his face. Brutal answered with a similar smile, which faded as soon as it came. The pair walked along the corridors to the stairs, which led up to the church’s public area. Brutal’s room was the one on the left before the stairs. They stopped by the door. Brutal didn’t like the idea he slept underground when Pure slept on the upper level. He didn’t think Pure was safe without him near him; he wanted to keep the man safe. Pure has done more to him than any other man has; he had taken him in, fed him, cleaned his wounds, and swept his sins away…

“By tomorrov morning Director’s body vill be found, and later I’ll have to bless his body and soul”, explained Pure, just to make sure Brutal knew what will happen. Brutal did not answer, but he did give a nod. Pure held the book in his hands against his chest. He did not meet Brutal’s eyes when he said: “Good night, enfant.” Brutal looked down at him. Expecting he wouldn’t get an answer, Pure was about to walk away and up the stairs. But Brutal hit his arm before him, preventing him from getting past him.

“Can’t Oi get a kiss?” he asked, smirking. Pure squinted his eyes a bit, his hold on the book tightening just a bit. He didn’t say anything in a few seconds, which irritated the Sniper. Brutal took his other hand on Pure’s shoulder, pushing the man against the wall on his back. Brutal took a place before him, his eyes on the Pure’s.  
“Can’t ye even look at me?” asked Brutal with a deep whisper.  
“I am…” Pure answered, his voice shivering just a little bit.

“Ye still not afraid of me, Father?” Brutal asked. He had asked the very same question over and over again, maybe just to hear the Spy say he is not. As always, the Pure One shook his head, answering: “Non.”  
“Why are ye shiverin’ then? Ye always do this-“  
“You smell like blood.”

Brutal took a hold of his vest, brought it up to his nose and smelled. He had got so used to the scent of blood that he almost didn’t notice it. He let the vest drop as he faced Pure again.  
“Oi’m sorry ‘bout that, mate…” he said, sounding sorry. Pure managed him a small smile, which faded soon. The Brutal Sniper looked at him for a second before he took a soft hold of the Pure’s jaw, raising his eyes to meet with his. Pure looked confused and questioning, and Brutal asked, pulling his lips closer to the Pure’s: “Just one-“, but he was interrupted when Pure spoke on his words: ”Brutal”, turning his head on the left a bit, leaning his back against the wall.

Brutal’s hold tightened a bit before he let go with a soft shove.  
“Ye are not sinless, Father, yer scars on yer back speak for themselves. Havin’ sex with me, Oi understand ye have to punish yerself after that, Oi hate to as well! One kiss can’t-“ the Sniper explained, the Spy answering: “Please, Christian- You smell of blood and death-“

“Am Oi only death in yer eyes now?” asked the Brutal as he took a step back, tired and therefore irritated and angry, maybe not thinking before acting or saying. Pure was maybe a bit scared to face him now, but he still did.  
“Christian-“  
“G’night, Father”, said the Brutal with a soft growl as he stepped to his door, opened it and when he had stepped in he slammed the door shut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “V-vhy don’t you-?” the Pure One sighed deep as he snuggled his head towards the Brutal’s.  
> “This way- ye don’t have to hurt yerself."

Father couldn’t sleep. He had been lying on his bed for, how long, an hour? The conversation- no, fight he had with Christian was still bothering him. Had he made him feel hated? Not cared about? Pure couldn’t forgive himself if he now said something so much wrong, that it would make Christian go away. He didn’t want to lose him. This was no more just about a friendship. It was something… deeper.

It was quiet, Father couldn’t stand it. It was also a bit cold; Father was wearing his long night gown, his mask but no socks or underwear. He didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with them… Then he heard something very silent; swift footsteps and the rustling of blanket and bed sheets. Pure One did not startle it, but he was a bit surprised. The man turned a bit, his eyes finding the Brutal’s soon. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, Brutal wrapping his arms softly around the Pure.  
“I can’t sleep”, the Pure One whispered softly, Brutal whispering back: “Neither can Oi.”

Pure turned around, the sound of rustling blankets being the only one in the room, if you didn’t count breathing. They just laid there, face to face, for some time. The Pure soon pushed forward a bit, just enough to be able to feel Brutal’s lips on his. Brutal closed his eyes a bit, his hold getting slightly tighter. Pure had his arms before him, between his and Brutal’s chests. When Pure pulled away, Brutal whispered deep, yet commanding: “Turn around.”

Pure looked at him for a small moment before he did as he was told to. He felt shivers run up his spine, his breathing got heavier. He was sure about what was to come, but he wasn’t afraid. He was more excited, which made him feel scared, for it was banned. But he wanted it, he needed it. Brutal knew how to be seductive while being scary and commanding, and it was really turning Pure on. The danger in the Sniper was interesting… Brutal took his hands on Pure’s waist, starting to kiss his neck and shoulder. Father was immediately surrendered for him.

The Sniper lowered his hands down on the Spy’s thighs, where he started pulling up the gown. He knew Father slept without underwear, so it would be easy to get to his vulnerable places. The Brutal couldn’t prevent himself from getting aroused as well, but he did not move to open his own trousers. Taking hold of the Pure he started caressing his tool. The Spy let out deep and shivering sighs, his whole body writhening softly. His bottom rubbed against the Sniper’s waist, affecting Brutal to softly push his hips forward and back. But still he wasn’t going to help himself out of his trousers.

When Father was clearly aroused enough Brutal’s caressing turned more passionate and a bit rougher. A little bit of pain seemed to excite them both.  
“V-vhy don’t you-?” the Pure One sighed deep as he snuggled his head towards the Brutal’s.  
“This way- ye don’t have to hurt yerself”, whispered the Sniper back, humping his hips against the Spy’s bottom to please himself.  
“Don’t worry, Oi’ll be just- fine…”

Soon the Sniper moved to sit up, taking Father with him. He positioned the Spy on his lap, his both hands caressing his thighs, tool and around it. Brutal kissed and licked Pure’s neck, biting his ear every now and then. Pure lifted his other hand behind Brutal’s neck as the other took a hold of the Brutal’s right wrist. The sounds and voices Pure left were deep, passionate and quite loud. It had to end, because someone could hear them. Brutal moved one of his hands on Pure’s mouth to silent his voices. Even so, Pure’s moans were probably able to be heard through the door.

Brutal liked it when he was able to please Pure this way. He enjoyed his sounds, and he enjoyed the little bit of pain and hurting their intercourse contained. Every time they had sex had something new and special in it. Pure let out a shivering moan, he was about to lose it any time now. Brutal knew he would soon too, and he would have laundry to do after that… He needed to stay in his pants, or then he would cause Pure to hurt himself again.

Soon enough they both crossed the line. For a moment it felt like Pure didn’t know where he was, when he was or remember his own name, but after a few seconds he cleared his mind. He sighed deep with a wide soft smile on his face. Leaving Pure’s places alone, Brutal lay down on the bed next to him, pulling Father with him. Pure turned around to be able to be face to face with the other man. Brutal adored his smile, his face. It was so… pure and innocent, like an angel. Even if he had caused things, which have hurt Father, even if he has been a burden… Father still cared for him. That was more than Brutal could ever ask.

Pure snuggled against Brutal, who held him softly on his arms. If only it could always be like this… Just the two of them, no one else, no rules… No sins or Gods to ask for forgiveness. Just them. If only… Brutal had been thinking about them for some time now. He is Father’s biggest sin, when Father is his heaven. How can two people, so different, be so perfect together? Perfect, regardless of the small down hills and disagreements. Brutal did not know, neither did he care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CBS © Kekas Vas Normandy  
> CPS © mit-332  
> -  
> This fic was written somewhere around 2013, so its not perfect or best regarding grammar. I still hope you'll enjoy :))


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